


Flavor of Love chap02

by ythmir



Category: Midnight Cinderella (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:53:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ythmir/pseuds/ythmir
Summary: part of midnightvalentine 2k17 collab





	Flavor of Love chap02

**Author's Note:**

> part of midnightvalentine 2k17 collab

Now, they say that opportunity only comes to those prepared for it.

Well, Alyn had spent two months for this. Gods be damned if that was not preparation enough.

And to be honest, it did not matter if he ended up finding her in the freaking clocktower. It did not matter if he would have to pry her away from Giles or Robert for whatever important meeting. And it especially did not matter if he had to save her from his brother. He would look for her and he would find her.

And he would try, without balking, to be romantic.

Alyn went down the stairs, a bit nervous now, careful to not make any noise. He could hear someone working in the kitchen, the sound of a metal pan being placed on the marble table and then the cupboards being opened and closed, as if someone was looking for something in haste. He tried to suppress a laugh; it was so typical of her to start cooking without having all the necessary items in place and sure enough, as he took a peek, he saw her reaching into the farthest portion of the shelf above her before taking out what she needed with a relieved huff of breath.

Alyn felt the tension leaving his shoulders, cold dread and panic being replaced by something warmer, brighter, and he watched as she moved methodically, trying to scoop whatever it was on the pan with one clean swipe before transferring it into the bowl she had just taken out. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and her apron was a mess of splatters and what looked like a black singe but he did not want to think about how that happened although he could pretty much guess.

When it seemed like she was in no hurry to look up from where she was working, Alyn braced himself, gripping the gift with both hands, and coughed out loud.

Then he prayed that she would not shoo him away.

“Nico, for the last time, I told you not to -!” But the rest of the words tumbled back into her throat as she looked up and saw him. She froze.

“I’m back.” He said.

“You -! You told me you were arriving tomorrow!”

“It is tomorrow.” Alyn pointed at the clock and her eyes followed his fingers and she cursed under her breath. She looked back at him, biting her lip, her entire face scrunched up in worry and then it showed defeat at being found out.

She sighed out loud, raising her hands. It took everything in Alyn to not cross the kitchen in three steps and kiss her.

“I went up to your chambers and you weren’t there. ” Alyn said. He tried moving closer but just as he thought, she made waving motions with her hands and went to him herself.

“I’m busy.” She said.

“Yes, I can see that.” Alyn angled his head but she blocked his view with her arms. He raised a brow at her. “I can smell what you’re making. I saw all the books in your chambers and in the library too.”

“Goddammit.” She crossed her arms, paused, and then said, “Well it’s for tomorrow - I mean, later, and you have no business here.”

Alyn did not move. “From scratch?”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Then gave in. “Yes.”

“And you fermented it and all?”

“Took me a freaking week.”

Alyn paused and she would not meet his gaze. “After all these years, you actually followed my steps? You’re making them from cocoa beans? Ground them and all that?”

“Whatever Robert says, I did not have him get them for me.” The blush on her cheeks was apparent now despite her rolling her eyes.

Alyn swallowed again. He badly wanted to kiss her.

“Souvenir?” She was looking now at the box in his hands.

Oh shit.

“It’s uhhh…” Alyn began to stammer and he mentally cursed himself. “I collected these for you.”

“You’re so cute when you’re like that.” She held the box as he gave it to her. She angled her head and they moved to the nearest counter as she began unwrapping the gift that had taken him hours to wrap. When she finally undid the last ribbon, her eyes went wide with disbelief.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Yes.”

Inside the box was a leather-bound book. She gingerly extracted it, holding it delicately in her hands as if it contained the secrets of the gods. She looked up at him again and then back at the book. She opened it.

Her jaw dropped.

The book was a collection of different confectionary recipes taken not just from the provinces of Wysteria but from other countries as well; there were germanic symbols of the Steiner tongue, the italicized script of Fairmark and the kingdoms farther west, there were even some with the strange symbols used in the far eastern countries that Alyn had forgotten how to pronounce. She scanned the contents, her eyes darting back and forth. Each and every dessert was carefully illustrated and catalogued and then translated into Wysterian, for her consumption.

For a moment, it was as if she was shaking.

“Is this why you were away all the time?” She looked as if the pieces were clicking into place inside her head. “Is this why you were always assigned at the borders?”

It was Alyn’s turn to avert his gaze.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Isn’t that the purpose of a surprise?” Alyn smiled now. “Happy Valentines, love.”

“Is this supposed to be as practically close to chocolate as you can get?”

“Yes.”

She laughed and threw her arms around him, snuggling against his chest this time. “Gods, Alyn, thank you! And here I was just ready to fight you this year!

“You would have lost.”

“That remains to be seen.” She laughed again. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”He said, hugging her tighter still. And he wanted more. So much more than just this.

Alyn had had many attempts in trying to be romantic and these attempts had fizzled each and every time. He was extremely private after all, and more often than not, whatever tender words he wanted to say end up either left being unsaid, if not sardonic.

He really wanted to be romantic this time. He reminded himself that he had worked hard for this, had dreamed of it countless of times.

Grab it, Alyn.

The opportunity had just presented itself.

Just say it!

“I want to make it with you.”

She pulled back and looked at him as if he had spoken in a foreign tongue.

And Alyn, in turn could feel the blush on his own cheeks, the warmth inside him spreading all the way to his fingertips. He felt dizzy. Part of him wanted to turn around and walk away, to leave her and tell her he was going to look forward to her surprise after all. Besides, he had given her his gift anyway.

Except that was not what he wanted this year.

That was not what he wanted from here on out.

Don’t balk, goddammit. “I want to make the chocolate with you. I don’t want competition between us this year.”

“Are you still saying that I can’t make it on my own?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Because if you are, I swear to the gods Alyn Crawford, I - !”

“I’m not!” Alyn countered. “And that was not even in any of my sentences! Look,” He placed his hands on her shoulders. More to stop himself from shaking than it was to stop her from stopping him. “I just want to make it with you. I don’t care if we think differently about cooking. I don’t care if our views are miles apart. It never did matter to me then and it doesn’t matter to me now.

“I just want to… this year… all the other years too because…”

She was not moving her gaze from him and he could feel his cheeks getting warmer and warmer by the second.

“Because I just really want to do it with you.”

“If we were not talking about chocolate, that would sound so wrong and so forward and so unromantic.”

“Please give me a break.”

“Oh this is me being very easy on you.”

“Two seconds to get me into the mood and - ”

But the rest of his words were left unsaid. She had moved towards him, tiptoeing and wrapping her arms around his neck again. It took Alyn by surprise and for a few seconds he forgot how to move.

Then he heard something click.

“You’re so easy to distract, sheesh.” She drew back, a triumphant smile on her face. “Something for you whenever you go back to those godawful patrols. Except, please don’t go on them again.”

“Believe me, I’m not planning to.” Alyn looked down and saw a locket. The circle fit into his palm snugly and it was encrusted with what looked like small rubies around twin swords. He opened it and inside was a portrait: a smaller version of the painting Robert had done for the two of them during their first year.

“Heh. The gems matches your cheeks.”

“They do not.” Alyn said, pouting, closing his hand around the locket, his heart hammering in his chest, and knowing all too well that yes, his cheeks were matching the rubies.

“It was supposed to be for tomorrow - no, I mean, today. Was supposed to go with the chocolate.” She jerked a thumb behind her. “But since you’re here already, and you did give me my gift. Well… Happy Valentines too, love.” She smiled up at him again and Alyn could swear he heard angels singing in his ears. “And welcome back.”

Alyn could not help himself. He touched her face. “I’m finally home.”

For the third time, she hugged him and this time, Alyn did not tarry in hugging her back. The fact that he was practically starving for her touch hit him full on and he savored the sensation of her skin against his, of her weight pressed against him.

And for a moment, they stayed like that, quite content in each other’s arms, quite content to be able to feel the other physically present after such a long time of being apart. Alyn buried his face in her hair, taking in her familiar scent. She was sugar and cream and vanilla and -

“Is that… chili?”

“Ha!” She exclaimed, extracting herself from the embrace and almost bouncing back to the tables.

Alyn was confused. “You’re putting chili in the chocolate?”

“Yup.”

“Are you insane?”

“I prefer the word pioneering.”

Alyn was unconvinced, bordering on horrified.

“You look like I’m about to murder a lamb.” She clicked her tongue, straightening. “Isn’t it somewhere in the uhhh - recipe holder you got me?”

“No!” Alyn said, almost indignant.

“Shame.” She shrugged. “So. Are you gonna help me make it or am I going to just shoo you away again?”

Alyn hesitated. Then he shook his head with a resigned grin. “Lead the way through your aesthetic.”

Some would argue that cooking was a science.

There had to be exact measurements of things in bowls with clearly defined markings; there had to be counting of precise minutes, or else everything is going to burn; you had to carefully follow each and every step, unless what you were originally trying to brew was a disaster. There was a practical reason why you have to put cream first before the sugar, why you made sure the batter was smooth and not chunky, and why you should never try to fry anything that was fresh out of the water.

But some people, like her, would argue that cooking was an art.

It was not that they blatantly ignored basics. That would be insane, and she would agree with him on that. Only, cooking was an art because she saw the vast and expansive room for improvement. Why stop pushing when you could explore so much more options? Why stop trying new things just because a few old rules worked?

And as he and she bustled around the kitchen in their aprons, as they melted the nibs and weighed, measured and added the goddamn chili peppers into mix, as the aroma of her concoction finally drifted from the pot and filled the kitchen, Alyn seemed to finally understand what she had meant.

“Here.” She offered the spatula caked with the chocolate.

“You want me to taste this first?” Alyn was incredulous.

“Think of it as me.” She grinned. “Sweet but with a kick to it, ha!”

“More like death.” But Alyn took hold of her hand and licked. It was sweet – of course it would be sweet – and as he continued savoring the chocolate there was a sudden spice. He brought a hand to his mouth and then said, “It’s actually good.”

She was all smiles, tiptoeing to kiss him.

Cooking was not exactly science.

But, it was not really art either.

And to be honest, he could not decide which outweighed the other. Not that it mattered at the moment because at least for now, as he watched her humming, pouring the finished chocolate into the molds, grinning up at him as she noticed him watching, the only thing that was definite was cooking with her was an experience.

It made him happy

Just as she did.

Just as she always will.


End file.
